Never To Be Found
by SemperSursum
Summary: She used to be this little girl who believed in fairytales and dreamed of catching butterflies. Nacy.


**A/N:** Plot's been playing in my mind and has been begging to be written. Sorry if it sucks. I just had to get it out of my system. I feel so angsty lately. :(

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Jonas.

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**Never To Be Found**

He used to think she was happiness herself.

But blood-shot eyes and bruises proved him wrong. She used to be this little ball of sunshine that can light up the room with her smiles. She used to be this little girl who believed in fairytales and dreamed of catching butterflies. She was his savior, his angel. She has pulled him from the unending depths of darkness that he has fallen into. And he used to bask at her warmth. Just her presence was enough for him. She was _his_ Macy.

But the Macy he once knew and was his was nowhere to be found. She could be standing in front of him but it was evident in her eyes that she was still lost. She drifted away without anyone noticing until it was already too late. She was no longer the butterfly catcher. She is the butterfly who knew that sooner or later, she would get caught by that tangled net called life.

This time, the one catching the fluttering butterflies wasn't happiness, it was loneliness. _Hurt and loneliness_, he thought.

And she died in its clutches. _A painful death_, the tombstone in his front reminded him. She was forever lost, _never _to be found.

* * *

It seems like it was just yesterday when she came in through the glass door with running mascara on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes. Despite being very athletic, one could tell she was getting thinner and thinner by the day. Her hair was in a messy bun. The curls that used to bounce with her every movement were gone. The sparks in her chocolate orbs has vanished.

The girl he wanted to catch wasn't falling for him. _She was falling for grief_, another bitter thought that played in his mind.

"Nick." She said almost inaudible. Glass-thin silence ensued. He didn't want to break it and neither did she.

"I can never be good enough." She said with pain dripping from every word. She was shattering along with her dreams. Her world has crumbled under her and it was evident on her face.

He tried to put her hands in his but she flinched the moment his fingertips has touched the back of her calloused hands. He doesn't know how to comfort her anymore. Talking used to do the job but talking just made it more painful for her now.

She could never grasp the concept happiness anymore. It was like sand to her now, slipping right out of her fingers.

"Mace, stop hurting your self." Her head jerked up at his words. He was three points shy of a genius but he just couldn't figure her out. Most likely, it was because she didn't want to be.

"Easy for you to say." She mumbled, not wanting for him to hear but he did.

He grabbed her left hand and turned them over for her palms to be visible. Her fingers are much more slender now than the last time he remembered. His thumb traced the visible vein adoring her pale palms and stopped once he reached her wrist.

"This isn't healthy, Mace. Stop it. You weren't like this before." He told her softly with concern filling his eyes. She was hurting herself and he could see that, others didn't. She never lashed out on anyone though, just on her self and the red lines on her wrist proved that. She needed to let it all out and he knew that but reliving painful memories is never a good thing.

"What was I before, Nick?" She asked with indifference and sullen eyes.

"You were this girl who made me see the world in Technicolor and not in boring shades of gray." He answered, looking at the cuts she had made on her hands.

She laughed a bitter laugh. "That's an interesting way of defining who I was."

He fell silent. She was losing her grip on life. He started to panic, trying to find the right words to make her feel better even just for a moment.

"I might as well die with what I am now." She whispered with a grim smile playing on her lips.

"Stop it, Mace. It wasn't your fault." _What she is now_, he repeated in his head. She saw herself as murderer.

"Nick, we both know it's my fault. My brother died because of my recklessness." Tears started to trickle down her cheeks and she made no move to wipe them. More mascara runs gracing her pale skin. He reached for his handkerchief but Macy stopped his hand before he got it out of his pocket. Her eyes were telling him to leave it alone. She wanted to suffer.

He felt something warm trailed on his hands. Her cuts were bleeding. He attempted to reach for his handkerchief and again, she tried to stop him. Seeing her like this made his heart ache. He gently shook off her arm and used the thin piece of cloth as bandage on her wrist.

"I don't deserve this from you. I'm horrible, aren't I?" He didn't answer her question and just finished wiping blood off her fingers. Her sadness has engulfed her whole.

"This is the only thing that reminds me that I'm still in control of my life and I could end it anytime." She was referring to her cutting.

"I'll repeat what I said earlier. This isn't healthy. You're hanging your life on a small piece of string." She looked away, knowing full well that he's right.

"Think about your parents and your friends. This'll make them even more upset."

"My parents hate me, Nick. I'm better off dead for them." She answered, eyeing the hem of her skirt.

"You're still their daughter."

"Josh was always their favorite. I'm always second best." _You aren't_, he wanted to say but thought otherwise.

"Aren't you our number 1 fan?"

"Yeah but where does that get me, Nick?" He's had it, enough of her being pessimistic. Another round of her ramblings and his heart might burst. Her wings were getting plucked off and there's nothing he can do now. He wasn't like happy Macy. He could never do what she did for him. He wasn't the sun. That was Macy. Well, used to be. _No_, she still is and she was just losing her flares. And he knows when a star dies it has the possibility of turning into a black hole.

All of these thoughts just keeps on frustrating him.

"_Goddamnit_, Mace! When are you getting over this? Do you know how much it hurts seeing you like this? Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? And knowing that you're trying to kill yourself isn't helping what I feel right now." _No, this wasn't what he really meant to say. _He tried to compose his self again and explain how that came out wrongly.

"So-sorry, Mace. I didn't mean it that—" Cold sweat rolled down his temples. This conversation _couldn't_ turn bad. It will only break her further.

"No. Stop." Her voice was shaky.

She looked at her wrist again where blood stain became more visible on the make-shift bandage. She stood up with a slight wobble and headed for the glass door of the atrium.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye, Nick." She said before she closed the door. No tears were brimming, only blood dripping from her hand.

He never heard from her again. He never knew those were the last words he'll ever hear from her.

* * *

She was gone, leaving only a tear stained note behind.

_I'm sorry. I thought I was doing a good job at keeping it all in._

_If I were to be around longer, I might just hurt all of you. _

_I want you all to be happy. It's better off this way._

_Goodbye._

_-Macy_

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**A/N:** I don't know if the title was fitting. When I wrote this, I had no title in mind. Review please? :)

And this isn't the sequel for 'Talking To The Moon'. I still couldn't figure out what song I'm going to use next. This is a birthday present to myself Part 1. Part 2 won't be a sequel for this though. And since I just finished reading Peter Pan... Just giving you a heads up!_  
_


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